


Random Snippets

by SBG



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 14:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBG/pseuds/SBG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entries and alternates that didn't make the final submission, for round six of the LJ Steve/Danny Last Drabble Writer Standing challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Random Snippets

**Author's Note:**

> Round six kind of just ceased happening several months back now, and, well, I guess I voluntarily disqualify myself by posting these. The statute of limitations must surely be over. (sigh) I'm plopping them all in on one post because I see no reason to clutter things up with separate posts or chapters (that kind of bugs me, tbh), and I figure no one will read 'em anyway. /end weird passive-aggressive nonsense/
> 
> I do think some might make it to longer-length, possibly plotted pieces someday, because I am actually quite fond of them. Not sure which to pursue. Hmmm.

**Week One**  
 **Prompt:** Fluff, cucumber, up to 300 words

 **Title:** A Field That is Rested Gives a Bountiful Crop  
 **Summary:** Steve learns the importance of relaxation.

Steve tried to let the quiet music ease him into a relaxed state; he had promised that much.

He’d say he was doing well, except his eyes felt funny. His nose itched. A drip of water from the washcloth slid down the side of his face and trickled right into his ear. He felt in no way what they’d assured him he’d feel. He _did_ feel silly for having let himself be talked into it, probably looked it also.

“This is ridiculous,” Steve said, not for the first time. His complaints were loud in the quiet room, but fell on unsympathetic ears. “I don’t…”

“Uncle Steve, it’s rest time,” Grace whispered. “Danno, make him stop.”

“You ask the impossible, sweetie,” Danny said, voice slurred and sleepy. He sounded relaxed enough for all three of them. “But, shhhh, Steve. Let yourself go for a few minutes, babe. For Grace.”

Steve sighed.

It had surprised him when Danny had had none of his own objections, until he’d seen the way Grace tipped her head just so and Danny’s expression softened the way it always did for her. Steve knew then it wasn’t Danny’s first rodeo, which he fully intended on bringing up at some point, when he wasn’t sprawled on his bed with his two favorite people nestled next to him and damned slimy ( _maybe_ soothing) cucumber slices on his eyes. He heard the sheets rustle a second before a small hand slipped into his left one and squeezed.

“Spa days are awesome,” Grace said. 

The heat from Danny’s body bled into him from the right, a complement to sweet Grace on the left. As contentment filled him, he started to understand the appeal.

“Yeah,” Steve murmured. “They sure are.”

He sought Danny’s hand, smiled when Danny laced their fingers together.

 

**Alt Week One**

Danny squinted one eye as he studied the options laid out before him. He was torn. He liked both, enjoyed both. He simply couldn’t decide which he wanted right now. He trailed his fingertips over the smooth skin, hefted one into the palm of his hand and gauged its weight.

“Are you really going to fondle the melons all afternoon?” Steve said, voice husky with _meaning_. “I think your hands could do better things to this.”

Danny dropped the honeydew and, despite himself, turned pink at the vegetable in Steve’s hands. He looked furtively around to make sure no one had overheard. Judging by the way a slightly chubby older lady was eyeing Steve’s everything, at least one person had. 

“Sexual innuendo over produce is such a cliché, Steven,” Danny said.

Steve grinned, held up the large cucumber and circled his left hand around it. He dodged when Danny lunged for him, the grin turning into a laugh as he easily escaped around the other side of the melon display with the cucumber held high. 

“It’s very firm,” Steve said, all half smile and heavy eyelids. “Perfect girth.”

Danny attempted to retort, but the words stuck in his dry throat. Steve knew what that expression did to him. 

“You should take that one home, dear,” the old lady said, directing her words to Danny. “I know my cucumbers, and that quality doesn’t come along every day.”

She gave Danny a visual inspection of his own and then a quick tweak to his butt. She cackled when he jumped.

“Beg pardon. I thought that was one of these. Mmm-mmm- _mmm_.” She hefted a honeydew into her cart and waggled her eyebrows at Steve. “Though now that I think of it, I’m also fond of melons. Whoever said you can’t enjoy both?”

 

 **Week Two**  
 **Prompt:** Angst, Zimbabwe, up to 200 words

 **Title:** If words could make wishes come true  
 **Summary:** Danny and Steve plan a fantasy trip around the world.

The heat of day lingered well into night. His partner shivered behind him, though, bony limbs lacking the insulation they’d once had. Danny Williams tried to ignore it, wanted it to not mean what it did. Denial was something in which he was well practiced. He’d denied that his marriage with Rachel was over a year before the papers made it official. He’d denied the stab of attraction he’d felt instantly for Steve McGarrett was more than base urges, time wasted.

“So, after Yemen?” he asked, pressing gently into Steve to share warmth. “Where else have you never been that we’d visit?”

“Zimbabwe,” Steve said. “We’d safari.”

Danny laughed, imagined Steve in a ridiculous hat with an equally ridiculous smile on his beautiful face, and suddenly he was choking back tears he always tried so hard to hide.

“Shhhh.” Steve tightened his arms around Danny, tucked his face against his neck, tried to console the inconsolable. “Hey, it’s okay.” 

But it wasn’t, no, wouldn’t be, and Danny let the tears fall unchecked as he mourned a trip they’d never take, a long life together they could only dream about.

The thing about denial was that it couldn’t stop the inevitable.

**Alt Week Two**

“Come on, Danny, you’re not going to let me win so easily, are you? That’s not like you,” Steve cajoled, voice hoarse from the dust and the fruitless shouts for help earlier.

Danny shifted slightly, moaned. Steve couldn’t see the worst of Danny’s injuries, but he knew they were there by the shocking dark red blood coloring Danny’s teeth, the wheezing breath, the faltering heartbeat under his palm. He didn’t know how long they’d been trapped, only that it was too long. Every minute felt an hour, brought Danny that much closer to death.

“I said _kibitz_ , remember? What’s your word?” 

In his head, this game of theirs had become symbolic. As long as they kept playing, they were okay. But Danny was fading. Whatever injuries Steve had paled in comparison to his overwhelming panic and dread about that. He could not lose Danny. No way. He smoothed the hair away from Danny’s forehead, pressed his lips against the corner of Danny’s eye and willed an answer out of him. _Please_.

“Zim…Zimbabwe,” Danny gasped.

Relief surged through him, but it was short-lived. Danny arched his neck. His breath rattled in his throat, then ceased, and Steve’s world shattered around him. 

 

**Alt Two Week Two**

Danny couldn’t tear his eyes away from the horror playing out on the television screen, on so many television screens across the nation and world. He had no way of knowing where Steve was. Steve had been gone for nine months, and every single day of that had worried at Danny’s gut. It wasn’t a stretch to picture Steve there, amid the rubble and fire and smoke and screams, carrying out the duty he had committed to when he was not more than a boy.

“He isn’t there,” Kono said softly, her touch just as soft on his shoulders as she massaged away at the tenseness.

“You can’t know that,” Danny said, throat tight.

The reporter ducked as something flew at her and her camera crew, hell all around her. 

“No, but if he is there, he’ll be all right. He’ll come back,” Kono whispered. “Or, he’s maybe nowhere near there. Maybe he’s in … Zimbabwe.”

Danny’s eyes blurred as if the smoke billowing out of wrecked buildings north of Kabul had infiltrated HQ. He reached a hand up, clasped at one of Kono’s. He squeezed her fingers tight within his own and pictured Steve in Africa, fighting lions.

 

 **Week Three**  
 **Prompt:** First Time, Zebra, up to 300 words

 **Title:** Mutual of O’ahu’s Wild Kingdom  
 **Summary:** Nature shows are very educational.

 _“The chase is over. The stallion finally mounts his chosen mate,”_ the placid voiceover droned. _“The struggle doesn’t last long as he…”_

The roaring in Danny’s ears blocked out the rest of the clinical description of animal sex, but the visual was unavoidable. Sometimes big-ass TVs were a bad thing. He shifted, the leather squeaking beneath him.

“Those stripes,” he said. He gestured at the mating zebras, the one on the bottom braying loudly. “Making me dizzy.”

What was truly dizzying was the heady mix of his proximity to Steve and the ill-timed nature program. Danny cursed his luck at the television coming on to _that_. Steve wasn’t, didn’t. He leaned forward, uncomfortable, elbows on knees, and resisted the urge to yank the remote away from Steve. That would be rude, as rude as the situation south of his border right now. He was mortified; zebras fucking was _not_ a turn-on.

“Maybe change the chan…”

A hand on his shoulder made him jump and twist. The hand didn’t lose contact, instead pulled him closer. Danny glanced back, stunned by Steve’s expression. 

“Danny,” Steve said. He smiled, eyes soft and something _more_.

Danny blinked. Steve _was. Did_.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Steve slid his hand down, hooked a finger in Danny’s waistband. “Can I…?”

Danny blanked for a second, but then nodded halfway. Before he completed the motion, he found himself pressed against the sofa with Steve’s tongue in his mouth. It occurred to him somewhere between his shirt buttons popping off and Steve’s big, warm hand wrapping around him that this all might have been intentional, some weird mating ritual. He snarled into their messy kiss, grabbed Steve tight and flipped their positions. Now that he knew he could, he intended on demonstrating exactly who would mount whom here. 

 

**Alt Week Three**

**Title:** Bust a Move  
 **Summary:** Some first times don’t last very long, and that’s not always a bad thing.

Steve waited in the car five minutes before he caved and went to drag his partner out. It wasn’t like Danny to be late, punctuality one of his exaggerated traits. Most of those traits were a passive-aggressive rebuttal to island life, and Steve admitted it was endearing in an annoying kind of way. The music thumping out of Danny’s apartment surprised him, but eased the automatic concern years of experience had made second nature. 

He let himself in, smiling at the music choice. _Young MC_. Retro.

“Danny?” he shouted.

When he got no answer, he wandered down the short corridor to Danny’s bedroom and bathroom. The bathroom was vacant. He switched gears, rounded the door of the bedroom and came to a screeching halt at the sight before him. Several boxes were spread out, one zebra-striped ass waggling in the air as its owner dug through them. Thoughts of their dinner date and everything else Steve had planned for the evening flew out the window. 

“Holy shit,” Steve said.

Danny spun, startled. He recovered even as Steve fell apart. 

“What?” Danny said, posturing like he didn’t look silly in slightly snug zebra print and a loose tank. “I found these in my old stuff. Heard Zubaz are making a comeback.”

“God, _no_.” 

“I make this work.”

Steve laughed harder, had to lean on the door for support, as Danny pulled a Zoolander face.

“There really is a first time for everything. I’ve never found you unfuckable before, but…” he gasped and waved his hand at Danny, “…this.”

Danny set his jaw in challenge and quirked one corner of his mouth, eyes smoldering. He lifted the edge of his shirt and said, “Baby, you got it.”

Steve gulped. Suddenly, all bets were off.

Soon, so were Danny’s pants.

 

 **Week Four**  
 **Prompt:** Crack, chipped teacup, 200 words on the nose

 **Title:** When I Get All Steamed Up  
 **Summary:** Everyone has a creative outlet.

The acoustics in the interrogation room were phenomenal. Sometimes, rarely for a needed creative release, it was too good to pass up. Sometimes, even more rarely, he added a little dancing to go along with his secret performance. His pleasant tenor resonated through the small space.

“…tip me over and pour me out,” he sang, tilting to the right, arm extended straight. He pirouetted and finished it all with a graceful leap toward the door. 

Aware he’d lingered longer than he should have, he walked quickly to the Five-Oh offices, the childish tune still in his head. He hummed as he pushed through the main doors, attention on the floor. A distinct slow clap made him jerk to a stop. He looked up to see two of his team with shit-eating grins on their faces. The other one stood silent, eyebrows raised. He flushed, and remembered belatedly the camera in interrogation fed to their tech here. 

“I hate to break it to you, babe, but you’re more like a cracked, chipped teacup than a pot,” Danny drawled. “Unless you’ve been _smoking_ pot, which might explain the song and dance routine.”

Steve responded the only way he could: with jazz hands. 

 

**Alt Week Four**

**Title:** Monkey Lifeboat Porn Umbrella  
 **Summary:** Gibberish! 

As a SEAL and Naval Intelligence officer, Steve had seen many things in his life. Horrible, sad, violent and sometimes bizarre things. He’d watched men be cut to pieces, enemy and friend. His wealth of experience allowed him to distill what was happening right in front of him into almost scientific components. 

To a point, anyway.

“Rootin’ tootin’ raspberries. Monkey lifeboat porn umbrella,” Danny said, arms windmilling and face turning a terrific shade of red. He shot an angry look at Steve. “Scissors.”

Aphasia was often a terrifying thing. Its causes were normally somewhat concerning, but he had to admit that if getting a faceful of unidentified white powder only resulted in gibberish, then Danny was lucky. They all were, by extension.

“Danny, Danny,” he said, and tried not to laugh as he envisioned a monkey lifeboat porn umbrella. Wow. _Wow_. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for backup. Try to stay calm.”

Danny pointed a particular finger in his direction. 

“Chipped teacup, Barcalounger.” 

“Chin and Kono will get the guy to reveal a cure for his magic powder. You have to ride it out, okay?” Steve squeezed Danny’s shoulder supportively. “I’ll be right with you.”

“Cellar door,” Danny said dolefully. 

 

 **Week Five**  
 **Prompt:** Flangst, “Choose the Blue Pill”, up to 300 words

 **Title:** The Only Choice  
 **Summary:** In the end, the only choice Danny could have made turned out to be a life-changing one.

The scope of what he’d done weighed heavily. If anyone had said a year ago he’d be so destroyed about losing this job, this life, he wouldn’t have believed it. Danny threw an arm across his eyes, tried to block everything out. On the bedside table, his phone buzzed for the hundredth time since he’d fled the hospital.

The knock on the door a minute later was new. He knew who it was, the shivery jolt zapped down his spine, a trace of the drug still in his bloodstream. No.

“Danny, we have to talk eventually.”

The door rattled as his uninvited guest picked the lock. He rolled over, buried his face in the pillow, tensed when the bed dipped. A warm hand touched him hesitantly.

“Please,” Danny said. “Don’t.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t have to choose the blue pill, but I did. I stuck my tongue down your throat. I dry-humped you until I came,” Danny choked, because shit if he didn’t still _want_ , and it had little to do with the drug. “How can you want to talk to me?”

“It was the only choice. The other was a bullet. You bought time. You saved us, Danny…I…” Steve said, voice thick. “It wasn’t the way I pictured, but I could never hate you.”

Danny’s breath caught. He couldn’t…did Steve just… He turned, saw how wrecked Steve was.

“Steve?”

“The doc said the drug would be most effective if there was an existing…thing.” Steve flicked his gaze to Danny’s face. He looked heartsick. “Was it just the drug, Danny?”

There was an air of hope in Steve’s tone and oh. His eyes. Danny’s heart raced. He shook his head. Steve’s smile eased his soul, and Steve’s kiss gave him back the life he thought he’d nearly lost.

 

**Alt Week Five**

**Title:** Go Ask Alice, I Think She’ll Know  
 **Summary:** Steve takes a trip and has to pick the final destination.

(Note: this one was written right after the roller derby ep, wherein Cath’s undercover name was Alice somethingorother, so I thought I was being cute with the title.)

There was a rabbit. Not a normal rabbit. It was _huge_ , white, and it was wearing a plaid suit, with a waistcoat and a pocket watch. The gigantic bunny rabbit peered at him, nose twitching. He knew this wasn’t real, something wasn’t right, except when he reached out a hand to poke at it, his finger contacted fluffy fur.

“Are you late for a very important date?” Steve asked, hysteria burbling like a mad little brook in him. 

“No, but you are. You have to choose. Do you want the brown pill or the blue?”

The rabbit swept its arms up to showcase two large capsules. One was long and lean, deep brown like the darkest bits of earth, stable, solid but at the same time, suffocating. Next to it, slightly different in shape, broader, the blue one was like the horizon where the sea meets the sky, vast and open, unknown freedom. Benefits and detriments to both.

“What if make the wrong choice?”

“There is no wrong. Choose. Choose. Choose.”

A ticking sound punctuated the rabbit’s words like a metronome. Like something else he knew. Steve heard more, too, beyond that. He closed his eyes, opened them and two faces above him, different but both dear to him. Warm touches on both hands. He flicked his eyes between the faces, one gazing at him with dark, smothering eyes, while the other’s eyes shone bright with relief and something fathomless, unknown. His heart tripped; he knew, just like that.

“I choose the blue pill,” Steve mumbled, hand gripping strong fingers.

“Babe,” Danny said, eyes softening into peace and _yes_. “You had us all worried, but you’re going to be okay.”

Steve knew he would be. He’d chosen. He held onto Danny tight, as Catherine left to find a doctor.


End file.
